The Night Before
by BooBack
Summary: ONESHOT It's amazing what can happen to Hermione on the night before her wedding...


**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters used in this story, I do own the plot and Ethan, please don't steal.**

**A/N: I wrote this in 10 minutes and I don't know where it came from. But I hope you like it and please review.**

**Enjoy!**

**The Night Before**

Drunk off her ass, she was. That's right, Miss Hermione Granger—Miss Perfect as some had dubbed her—was drunk off her ass, and on the night before her wedding no less.

The fact that she was quite intoxicated probably accounted for the reason that she was standing at his doorstep, ringing the bell in a fashion not unlike a two-year-olds.

When the door opened in annoyance and fury she looked into his confused eyes for a split second before making her decision.

She grabbed him about the neck and pulled his lips to her.

Instead of pushing her away—as she had guessed he would've done—he kissed her in return until they both pulled away, breathless.

"You're drunk," he said and Hermione smiled as she swayed on his doorstep.

"Only a little," she said with a slur before tripping over her own feet and falling into his frame.

"You shouldn't be here," he said. "You're getting married tomorrow," he said while stroking a hand through her soft brown curls.

"Maybe," she smiled brightly. "Maybe not," she amended.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," she said as she shook herself loose of his embrace and walked into his flat. "So," she said, turning to look at him. "Where's the bedroom?"

"That way." He pointed down the hall. "But you are sleeping on the sofa."

"Why?" she asked in a whine.

"Because, you're drunk, you're vulnerable, and you're Ron Weasley's fiancé."

"If you forget about all those," she said in a whisper. "We can enjoy a long night of shagging."

He turned his eyes away from her and answered in the negative.

"I know you want me, I can practically smell your arousal," she said. "You're sweating just trying to keep your hands off of me, you kissed me back when I kissed you. You look at me all the time at work and I can see the lust darken your eyes."

He looked at her. "Even if that's true, I still would not take advantage of someone who was drunk." It pained him to say this considering how much he really wanted her and had always wanted her, but somewhere—deep down—he was a respectable wizard.

"Come on, please! For me?" she stepped up close to him and whispered hot in his ear. "Draco?"

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Hermione's eyes opened suddenly and as quickly as she opened them, they closed to the onslaught of bright white light. She moaned softly and held her pounding head in both hands.

As she opened her eyes again slowly—to adjust to the lights—she looked around in awe.

This was not her flat.

The lamp on the bedside table—mahogany compared to her oak—was a snake.

The bed sheets were _green!_

This was not Ron's flat either.

The bed shifted and Hermione felt a hand wrap around her waist. She looked down and studied it carefully. It was too big to be Ron's, too smooth to be Harry's, too light to be Blaise's.

So with all of her possible lovers eliminated, she began to ponder who the man behind her was. She knew that she was naked and had faint remembrances of having sex with this man the night before—when she had gotten drunk at the thought that she had agreed to marry Ron Weasley.

She was going to be late for her wedding and she knew that. She just wanted to figure out who the man behind her was first.

The door bell rang and the man behind her grumbled something unintelligible. She felt him put his chin on the side of her neck and a moment before she saw the platinum blonde tresses she knew that it was Draco Malfoy that she had slept with.

Butterflies rose in her stomach—he had slept with her! The butterflies quickly died however—she did not remember it.

Maybe she could convince him into round two—no use getting married to someone you don't love.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

Pansy Parkinson-Malfoy rang the doorbell again before searching under the flowerpot for the spare key. She shifted her three-year-old son on her hip as she bent to look under the flowerpot. When she didn't find the key there she mentally smacked herself and took out her wand. "_Accio_ key," she said and it flew from the top of the door frame into her hand. Ethan—her adorable blonde son—laughed at the use of the magic.

Pansy opened the door with the key and stepped inside the flat, shutting the door behind her.

She looked around and tsk-ed. Draco kept this place a complete pig sty while she was away. There were clothes everywhere; robes on the couch; pants, shirts and jumpers down the hall to the bedroom.

"Draco!" she shouted. She looked at her watch, she would be late for the wedding if he wasn't here. She didn't trust Ethan to be quiet at a wedding and Draco had agreed to watch their son while she went because he refused to go. "Draco!" She walked down the hall and opened the bedroom door at the same moment that he did—wearing nothing but a bed sheet.

He stood in the open doorway. "Yes, love?"

"Ethan," she said and he smiled, taking their son from her. "Are you sure you don't want to go the wedding?" she asked.

"Yeah, even though it may prove to be quite interesting," he said, smiling at his son.

"And why's that?" Pansy asked.

Draco rolled his eyes and conspicuously kicked a bra back into the bedroom that was on the floor right inside the frame.

Pansy gasped as she opened the door—pushing Draco out of the way—and looked to the bed to find the bride-to-be sitting up on the bed, holding the green comforter to her chest, looking affright.

Pansy laughed. "I can't believe you fucked her," she said.

"Well, it wasn't exactly fucking, okay, well, some of it was…" he mumbled, pulling a hand through his sexy hair. If Pansy hadn't known him so long and loved him as a brother, she would probably jump him right now.

Now she wasn't saying that sex with him wasn't amazing, it was just…awkward at times. The only reason that they had married five years ago was so that their parents would be happy enough to die. Ethan was very unexpected—but loved nonetheless—as they only had sex on occasion. It was more casual sex than passion and love.

Pansy loved Draco, loved him so much and wanted him to be happy as he did with her. That was the reason that they had divorced over a year ago.

Pansy looked the girl on the bed up and down and know that Draco had finally gotten what he had always wanted and would not let it go. She laughed again softly. "I suppose you're right," she said.

"About?" he asked.

"This wedding may be interesting after all."

**The End**

**A/N: I have no idea where the plot bunny for this came from, but there you have it.**

**Love and Lemons!**

**Brittany**


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